


After Hours Negotiations

by SlashQueen69 (LadyKaianne)



Category: WWE
Genre: M/M, Smartassery, Strong Language, smbd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 14:09:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11991417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKaianne/pseuds/SlashQueen69
Summary: A business conversation turns into something more. Yeah, sucks, doesn’t it? I am no good at summaries. Just read the thing!





	After Hours Negotiations

Note 1: Assume Hunter never cut his hair, cuz I am!  
Note 2: Also, I’m setting this in a timeframe of just before The Shield broke up.  
Written: May 5, 2014

“I’m COO of this company. You will do what I tell you.”

“I don’t care if you’re the President of the United States! I’m not fucking doing that.”

“Look, if you like working for the company, you will…and you do enjoy working for the WWE, Dean, don’t you?”

Dean Ambrose eyed Hunter Hearst Helmsley hard for a long moment across the dinner table, fingering his fork, idly wondering what it would look like sticking out of the blond’s left eye. “You know what? Fuck you, Mr. COO,” he said almost pleasantly.

Hunter’s expression didn’t flicker as he met Dean’s blue eyes steadily and coolly. “If you’re not careful, Ambrose, I might just do that in more ways than you can fathom. Now, just do as I requested and quit bitching.”

Dean frowned at the other man, then grumbled glaring down at the small jar in front of him. He picked up the little spoon and scooped out the contents and, lifting it to his lips, screwed up his face and put it in his mouth. He pulled the spoon out and his expression relaxed, though it still wasn’t too happy.

Hunter tilted his head slightly and raised a brow in inquiry. “Well?”

“It’s not as bad as I expected,” Dean grudgingly admitted, dropping the spoon on the table and picking up his glass of wine, taking a long swallow to wash the salty taste out of his mouth. “But it sure isn’t something I want to taste again.”

“It’s an acquired taste,” Hunter murmured, signaling the waiter to take away their plates.

“No, thank you,” Dean replied, leaning back in his chair, looking around the posh restaurant with a faint air of disdain. “I’ll stick to chips and salsa.”

Hunter rolled his eyes, pulling out his wallet and tossing his credit card on the table. “You have no class, Ambrose.”

Dean looked Hunter right in the eye and belched, then grinned. “Nope. Not a bit.”

Hunter made a face, but inwardly wanted to smile at Dean’s attitude. He just genuinely didn’t seem to give a fuck what anyone thought of him. It was a trait to be admired.

“Look, are we ever going to get to the reason we’re having this little tete-a-tete?” Dean asked finally, setting his wineglass down firmly and leaning forward, planting his elbows on the table.

Hunter imitated Dean’s actions, inclining his head toward the other man. “I want to split you from The Shield and make you a main eventer.”

Dean stared blankly at Hunter for a long time, not quite sure how to react to what he’d just said. “You want to break up Shield? Why? It’s one of the biggest draws right now. It would be madness to break it up at this point.”

Hunter’s shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Factions never last in this business, Dean, as you well know, but stars are born of factions. I want you to be the first one born out of Shield.”

Dean studied Hunter’s eyes, a little wary. “Why me? Why not Roman? He’s the one that seems to have the real potential, that has the fans behind him. Why not back him?”

Hunter refrained from answering as the waiter returned with his card and the receipt. He shoved both into his wallet and it into his pocket as he rose to his feet. “Let’s go. I’d rather discuss this back at my hotel.”

Dean shrugged and, gulping the last of his wine, got up and followed Hunter out of the restaurant.

They were quiet on the ride back to Hunter’s hotel, which was fine with Dean. He wasn’t much of a chit-chat kind of guy. He inhaled deeply, his lids slipping half-closed as Hunter’s cologne filled his lungs again. You could say a lot about the blond, but fuck, he had great taste in cologne.

Hunter found himself glancing at his companion as he drove back to the hotel, wondering just what he was thinking. The man was a complete mystery. Like, what in the hell was he doing now? He looked to be breathing deep and…smiling? Fascinating.

Hunter pulled into the hotel lot and parked in the reserved spot. Leading the way into the lobby, he swiped his card at the side of the elevator that went to the penthouse suite.

“Fancy,” Dean murmured, his hands burrowed in his jeans pockets.

Hunter slid a sidelong glance at him and flicked his ponytail behind him. “That’s just how I roll. C’mon, peasant.”

Dean snorted and followed the blond into the elevator, leaning against the back wall. “So, where’s wifey? She upstairs waiting with a martini and a pair of slippers for her hubby?”

Hunter abruptly turned on Dean and stalked toward him, wrapping a hand around his throat and lifting him off the floor, slamming him hard against the wall, then pressing his face close. “Dean, I like you. I like you very much, but don’t ever speak of my wife in that tone to me ever again, understand me?”

Dean gazed deeply into Hunter’s hazel eyes and saw the flicker of danger there…and felt his heart begin to pound with excitement. He couldn’t help it. He grinned in the blond’s face. “Or what?”

Hunter uttered a low growl, then suddenly released Dean and stepped back as the lift doors opened on to his suite. “Behave yourself, Ambrose.” He turned and strode off the elevator, ignoring the laughter that followed him, heading straight for his liquor cabinet, needing a drink.

Dean strolled into the living room, perusing the luxurious furnishings, not in the least impressed. He sank into the plush leather couch and propped his feet on the wood and glass coffee table. “I’ll have a vodka neat, thanks.”

Hunter glanced over his shoulder and scowled. “Get your dirty feet off my coffee table.”

Dean sighed long-sufferingly and kicked off his shoes, then replaced his feet on the table. “That better, Dad?”

Hunter walked over to the couch and handed Dean his drink, staring at his mismatched socks in disbelief. “You did actually see those when you put them on, right?”

Dean glanced down at his feet and wiggled his toes, smiling as he took a sip of his drink. “Yeah. Couldn’t decide which ones I wanted to wear, so…” He raised a shoulder in a half-shrug, as if that explained everything.

Hunter shook his head and sat down beside him, unbuttoning his suit jacket and sighing in relief. “Now, about your singles push-“

“Don’t you ever get tired of wearing those?” Dean interrupted in his gravelly voice, swirling a finger in his vodka and licking it clean before repeating the process. “I mean, you look so fucking uncomfortable. Don’t you just long for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt?”

Hunter lost his train of thought when he looked over and caught sight of Dean sucking on his finger. He was surprised to feel warmth spreading from below his waist to his extremities and he yanked his gaze away quickly, taking a long swallow of his scotch.

When Hunter didn’t respond to his question, Dean glanced over at him, wondering why he was quiet all of a sudden. He elbowed him, his eyebrow rising when the blond jumped as if goosed. “Hey, you okay?”

Hunter cleared his throat and composed himself, turning so he was facing Dean a bit more directly. “I’m good. Now, about what we were discussing-“

Dean drained his drink and got up, sauntering over to the bar and refilling his glass, carrying it and the bottle back to the couch with him and plopping down again. “Do we really have to talk business right now? I really feel like getting shitfaced and you’ve got some top shelf shit here.”

Hunter’s lips thinned and he reached out to take the bottle from Dean…but Dean wasn’t letting go. They began to struggle over it. “Dean…let it go, now. I think you’ve had enough alcohol tonight.”

“The fuck you say!” Dean scoffed, tossing back the contents of his glass while trying to wrest the bottle from Hunter’s grip. “I haven’t even gotten started yet.”

“Ambrose, I’m warn-fuck!” Hunter gasped as he suddenly felt a hand between his legs, squeezing hard.

“I suggest you unhand my booze or shit’s gonna get very real up in here,” Dean purred in Hunter’s ear.

Hunter quickly released the bottle and he let out a sigh of relief when Dean loosened his grip on his testicles.

“Thanks, babe,” Dean rasped, flicking his tongue out to lave Hunter’s lobe while he gave him a light little fondle before removing his hand and picked up his glass, which he dropped earlier. He poured himself another shot of vodka and leaned back against the cushions and smirked at the blond.

Hunter glared at Dean, totally consternated…and damned if he was turned on! “I could fire you for laying hands on me like that.”

Dean merely continued to smirk at Hunter, entirely unphased by his threat. Finally, he casually posed a suggestion of his own. “You could lay hands on me, if you want.”

Hunter blinked at Dean in surprise, wondering where this was coming from.

“I saw the way you looked at me in that elevator, Helmsley,” Dean said sibilantly, setting the glass aside and drinking straight from the bottle. “You wanted to beat me down. You wanted to punish me.”

Hunter looked away, unwilling to acknowledge that aspect of himself. Not when it came to the bedroom. It was all right when it came to being ruthless in the ring or in business, but in bed…he couldn’t let go like that. “No. You’re mistaken. Can we get back to business now?”

Dean took a long swig, then set the bottle down, turning and bracing himself. “I bet if wifey wanted to play Mistress and bitch, you’d be all over that.”

Hunter was on Dean before he realized he’d been played. He’d knocked the other man backward until he was on top of him, straddling his waist, his hands around his throat and squeezing. “I told you not to speak of her, didn’t I?” he snarled.

Dean moaned, arching sharply up against Hunter, his hands grasping the blond’s thick wrists tightly. “Yeah…ahh, fuck yeah! Choke me out!”

“Shit, you’re disgusting!” Hunter said with contempt, though he didn’t relax his grip.

“Yeah…that’s why you’ve got this.” Dean reached down and stroked his palm down the length of the erection outlined by his slacks.

Hunter sucked in a sharp breath and was off Dean a second later. “I think it’s time for you to leave, Dean,” Hunter said in a strained voice, gripping the back of the chair as he stood behind it.

Dean levered himself up onto an elbow and pouted at Hunter. “Aww, you can’t end this party so soon. It was just getting good!”

“Out, Dean…now!”

Dean swung his legs off the couch and stood up…then skirted the coffee table to work his way toward Hunter, his blue eyes dark and intent as they met Hunter’s wary hazel ones. “I’m not ready to leave yet, Hunter,” he murmured silkily as he neared the chair.

Hunter frowned at Dean, straightening to his full height, attempting his intimidating stance. “Look, Ambrose, I don’t want to have to get tough with you and call security on you, but-“

Dean chuckled and sidled up to the chair, leaning forward to plant his hands on the armrests. “Yeah, you can do that, Hunt, but see, I’d have you stripped down and would be balls-deep in your ass before they’d get up here. You really want them walking in on that?”

Hunter flushed and cleared his throat. “Dean, I’m your boss and I really don’t think you should be speaking to me like that.”

Dean straightened and came around the chair toward Hunter, stalking him as he backed away. “Oh, come on, boss!” he scoffed, easily maneuvering him up against a wall. “Deep down, you know you love it…unless you’d rather be balls-deep in me. In that case…” He began undressing with alacrity, whipping off his shirt and flinging it at Hunter’s head.

Hunter snatched the shirt from his face and scowled at Dean, promptly distracted by the lean expanse of his bare chest and cut abs. When he began unbuckling his belt, however, he quickly averted his eyes and balled up the shirt in his hands and tossed it aside. “Dean, that’s enough! You need to stop this and leave.”

Dean peeled his jeans off his hips, along with his underwear and shoved them down his legs, kicking them across the room, then strode over to Hunter and plastered himself against his suit-clad frame. “I’m not going til I get what I want…and what I know you want, too.”

Hunter stood absolutely still, afraid to even blink with a naked Dean pressed so close against him. “And just what is it you want, Ambrose?” he rasped, his pulse thudding heavily in his throat.

“Oh, c’mon, blondy, don’t play coy with me,” Dean urged, sliding a hand beneath the suit jacket to smooth over Hunter’s shirt-covered ribs. “You know what we both want is a good…mmm…hard…God, you just smell so good…fuck.”

Hunter exhaled gustily, then growled low in his throat, abruptly bending his knees, wrapping his powerful arms around Dean’s waist and, turning, lifted and slammed him against the wall, kissing him voraciously, much to Dean’s delight.

Dean twined his arms and legs around Hunter like vines, trapping him against him, groaning in need. He yanked the tie from his blond hair and fisted his hands in it, reveling in the silken strands in his grasp.

Hunter dug his fingers into the taut muscles of Dean’s ass, grinding their hips together sensuously.

“Bed…now!” Dean gasped, his head falling back as Hunter’s mouth traveled down the length of his throat sucking and licking his skin.

“Pretty demanding, aren’t you?” Hunter murmured in gruff amusement as he grazed his teeth along Dean’s collarbone.

“Yeah…like, get your fuckin’ clothes off now, too,” he ordered in a moan as he shoved at the blond’s jacket, managing to slide it off his shoulders and down his arms. “Want you naked.”

“I think that requires you to actually climb off me for a minute,” Hunter said with a smile, lowering his arms to allow the jacket to fall to the floor.

Dean grunted and reluctantly loosened his hold on the blond, letting his feet slip to the floor. He then reached for his shirt and began unbuttoning it, yanking it from the waistband of his slacks.

“Impatient much?” Hunter muttered as he pulled off his cuff links and put them in his pants pockets before unfastening the cuffs and shrugging out of the shirt, letting it drift down on top of the jacket.

Dean ignored him, his mind focused on one thing--getting the other man naked. He next started working on his belt buckle, whipping it from the loops. He halved it and snapped it together, the sound loud in the room. He grinned, tossing it over his shoulder. “Think this’ll come in handy later.”

Hunter’s brows rose, then drew together in a slight frown as he wondered which end of the belt Dean was imagining he was going to be on the end of. He was distracted from that thought when he felt his pants and underwear drop and a warm hand close around his hardened shaft. He hissed in a sharp breath, his hips tilting into the touch.

“Mmm…niiiice…” Dean purred, drawing his fist up the length of the thick flesh, smirking at Hunter’s choked moan. He sank to his knees in front of him, looking up at him with a quirked brow. “You like your blowjobs romantic or dirty?”

Hunter blinked down at Dean before reaching out and running a hand through his wild reddish-blond hair. “What kind of a question is that, you crazy nutjob?--dirty, of course.”

Dean chuckled, leaning in and swirling his tongue over the tip of his cock, swiping up the drops of precome that leaked from the small slit first before he inched half of him down his throat at once. He groaned as Hunter’s fingers twisted in his hair, sending delicious stinging prickles of pain through his scalp

Hunter gave a harsh, grunted curse, then thrust his hips forward, grinning fiercely when he heard Dean gag. “Take it, Ambrose. Take all of it.”

Dean tilted his head up to look at Hunter, his blue eyes glinting wickedly as he relaxed his throat…and did just as Hunter demanded, sinking him down to the base in a smooth stroke. He was gratified to hear a startled yelp, then a loud groan, the hand in his hair twisting reflexively.

“You little bitch,” Hunter hissed, fisting both hands in Dean’s hair, holding his head still as he began driving his hips in long, hard, deep strokes, only this time, he was met by sucking, wet heat. “Awww, fuck, Ambrose…ahhh, yeah!” His head snapped back as his biceps flexed, his ridged abs fluttered and contracted and his thighs rippled and bunched. “That’s it…yeah, suck that dick, baby. Mmmm…such a sweet mouth,” he moaned, watching as he pumped himself in and out of Dean’s mouth, the sound of his balls slapping his chin and cheeks loud in the room. “Fuck, this is what your mouth was made for, Babyboy.”

Deans eyes drifted almost closed as he sucked and swallowed, swallowed and sucked, letting Hunter take charge, loving the trash talk, getting so turned on by it. He reached around and gripped his ass, urging him into an even more aggressive rhythm.

“Like that, huh?” Hunter growled, shifting his stance so he was practically straddling Dean’s face, began roughly pounding into his mouth, groaning loudly when he felt himself hitting the back of his throat. “Shit…aww, fuck, baby! Keep sucking me like--fuck, gonna come!”

Dean made encouraging noises as the nails of one hand bit into Hunter’s pistoning ass, while his other hand was between his own legs, frantically jerking himself off. He nearly bit into the blond’s dick when he felt a vicious stinging pain on his forearm. When he looked, he saw that Hunter had snatched the belt from his shoulder and lashed him with it. He gave him an inquiring frown.

Hunter resumed slamming into Dean’s throat, uttering a guttural moan of pleasure. “You’re not coming until I say so--fuck…close.”

Dean accepted Hunter’s explanation, just like he accepted that he was the one in the driver’s seat for the time being, and continued sucking and swallowing, slipping a hand between the blonds legs to cup and squeeze his balls, swirling his tongue up along the underside of his cock, tapping the thick vein while his fingers pressed and massaged his prostate from the outside.

“Aww…ahh, fuuuuuuuck!” Hunter Roared as he exploded into Dean’s throat, his body arched and strung tight as a bow as he rocked himself hard inn and out of his mouth, prolonging his pleasure.

Dean drank down every drop Hunter had to give, purring as he licked him clean, then slowly let him slide out of his mouth. “Mmm…fuckin’ delicious,” he said raspily, leaning forward to press a kiss to Hunter’s hip.

Hunter pulled a hand from Dean’s hair and braced it on the wall, trying to catch his breath. “Shit!”

Dean used Hunter’s hips to lever himself to his feet, then leaned against him, burrowing his face in the crook of his shoulder, inhaling the scent of his sweat and cologne, an intoxicating blend that had him growling low in his throat.

Hunter turned his head slightly. “What’s that for?” he murmured, his free hand gliding down the other man’s spine.

“I just love the way you smell,” Dean rasped, emphasizing his point by sinking his teeth into the corded muscle of his shoulder.

“Fuck!” Hunter grunted, his body tensing at the pain, his fingers burrowing into the small of Dean’s back. Shit! He couldn’t be getting hard so soon…but damned if he could already feel himself stirring!

Dean moaned softly, wrapping his arms around Hunter’s ribs, sensuously grinding himself against him. “Oooh, you liked that, didn’t you? Why don’t we move this to the bedroom and I’ll see what I can do about giving you more, hmm?”

Hunter covered the shiver elicited by Dean’s words by abruptly releasing him and, tossing Dean over his shoulder, strode toward his bedroom. “I think you’ll be on the receiving end of any pain delivered, Ambrose,” he drawled, dumping him unceremoniously in the center of the bed. He then went to his closet and disappeared inside it for a moment, returning with a black bag, which he set on the edge of the bed.

Dean threw his arms over his head and stretched languorously as he watched Hunter go into his closet. His eyes brightened when he came back with a bag that looked promising. “Ooooh, please, tell me you’ve got some lovely toys in there.”

Hunter gave Dean a nonplused look. “You are a freak, you know that, Ambrose?”

Dean raised a brow at the blond. “Excuse me? You’re the one with the big bag of toys and I’m the freak?”

Hunter, unable to think of an appropriate comeback, ignored that and unzipped the bag, taking out a few items and tossing them on the bed.

Dean levered himself up on an elbow and eyed the offerings, a smile slowly spreading over his face. “Oh, fuck, Hunter…I think I’m in love.”

Hunter snorted, swinging the bag to the floor, holding a pair of cuffs in one hand. “I’m afraid I’m already taken.”

“Not you, you jackhole. Your toys.” Dean reached out and stroked the gleaming length of the handle of a cat o’ nine tails.

Hunter climbed on the bed, catching one of Dean’s wrists. “Why don’t you be a good boy and let me cuff you., hmmm?”

Dean tugged his hand free with a lazy grin, slipping them behind his head as he lay back. “I don’t think you’ll need those.”

Hunter stared at him for a long moment, then tossed the cuffs aside and picked up the strap he’d taken from the bag. “In that case, on your stomach and put your hands above your head.”

Dean’s brows rose at the commanding tone in the blond’s voice, but he merely smirked and did as he was told, luxuriating in the sensation of cool silk sheets against his naked skin. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

Hunter just didn’t know what to make of this man. He wasn’t acting at all the way he was used to his lovers behaving. He was oddly off-balance and he definitely didn’t care for the feeling. He swung a leg over Dean’s, pinning him in place as he trailed the end of the strap over Dean’s back, enjoying the way his muscles flexed in anticipation. “You like pain, do you?”

Mmm…I think we have to to be in the profession we’re in, right?” Dean replied, shivering at the feel of the leather strap gliding along his spine. “But, to answer your question…yeah. I like pain more than the average guy.”

That was all Hunter needed to hear as he drew his arm back and brought it down in a slashing arc, the sound of leather hitting flesh loud in the room and making his cock jump.

Dean grunted in pain as the strap was laid across his back, but at the following blows, he was moaning and arching into them, gripping the pillow tightly. “Ahh, yeah…that’s it! Harder!”

Shit! The man was a glutton for punishment. He’d only held back on his strikes a little…and now he wanted it harder? Well, if that’s what Dean wanted… He began laying into Dean with all the power he possessed, getting turned on by the way the other man was crying out and moaning for more. He abruptly threw the strap aside and picked up the cat, slashing down across the welts he’d already made. He moaned himself as he saw the first drops of blood from the small tacks he’d had embedded in the ends of the strips.

Dean howled as Hunter started whipping him with the cat. The pain was exquisite and he ground himself wantonly into the mattress, incredibly aroused. “Fuck…ahh, fuck, Hunter! Getting close…” he warned, gasping at another blow to the small of his back, making him jerk in delight.

Hunter dropped the cat, running his fingers through the blood streaking Dean’s back, then reached into the bag for the bottle of lube. If he didn’t get inside Dean in the next minute...

Dean clutched the pillow, panting harshly. “Fuck, Hunter, if you don’t fuck me right now, I’ll fuckin’ finish myself.”

“Don’t threaten me,” Hunter growled, smacking the other man’s ass hard before squeezing the lube into his palm, coating himself thoroughly, tossing the bottle aside, then, spreading his cheeks and easing a slicked finger inside him.

Dean moaned at the invasion, trying to push back against him, but the blond was sitting on his thighs, pinning him down. “Shit, fuckin’ put your dick in right now, mother fucker or I’ll do myself on one of your dongs.” He growled, squirming futilely.

Hunter grabbed the paddle he’d taken from the bag and hit Dean’s ass with it. “I just told you not to fuckin’ threaten me, bitch, didn’t I? Or I’ll put a ring on it and let you watch me jack off and leave you like this for the rest of the night.” He warned, adding a second, then a third finger, wanting him fully prepared for him.

Dean cursed, but didn’t demand the other man to hurry things along again. He jerked and groaned loudly when Hunter brushed against his prostate, sending intense prickles of pleasure through him. “Ahh, fuuuuck!”

Hunter smirked at Dean’s response, teasing him a bit longer, enjoying the way he writhed beneath him, panting his name. “Like that, baby?” Hunter murmured, grinning at the enthusiastic nod he received. He eased his fingers out and, picking up the lube again, squeezed some out and coated himself, moving to nudge the blond’s legs apart. “Hands and knees, babe. He watched as Dean eagerly got into position, stroking his free hand over his taut ass. “Chest down, ass up,” he instructed, grasping himself and teasing the head of his dick down the crack of the other man’s ass.

Dean was getting pretty impatient for Hunter to get on with things and he rocked back against him, only just refraining from ordering the man to fuck him already. He moaned at the sharp sting of a slap to his ass. “Harder, baby,” uttering a low sound of satisfaction when he obliged, the flat of his palm leaving a hot imprint in his flesh and he ground back against him in silent entreaty.

Hunter shook his hand after he’d smacked Dean, then clamped both of them on Dean’s hips, slowly working himself into the other man’s tight heat. He hissed a curse as he was surrounded like a velvet fist. “Fuck, Ambrose…your ass is killing me!”

Dean moaned at the feel of Hunter working himself inside him, his head dropping down to the pillow. He grinned at the blond’s comment. “Well…at least you’ll die happy.” he quipped, rocking back into him, wishing he’d just fuckin’ slam into him. This slow shit was driving him crazy…crazier! “Come on, dammit! Fuck me already!” He finally burst out.

Hunter paused in his movements, staring hard at the back of Dean’s head. “That sounded suspiciously like an order to me,” he murmured, picking up the paddle, resting it in the small of the other man’s back. “You want me to pull out and just leave you here?”

Dean cursed inwardly, intensely tempted to turn the tables and get off by fucking the COO, see how he liked being tormented. The idea made him smirk. “Not particularly, but a nut’s a nut. I can get myself off quite satisfactorily, so I don’t really need you, so your threat isn’t really much of one.”

Hunter scowled at Dean, looking down at the paddle and tossing it aside, gripping the blond’s lean hips again and drove hard and deep, planting himself completely inside him, grim satisfaction at the sound of Dean’s cry of pain and pleasure. “That might be true, but it’d be kinda hard to get off if you’re hands are chained to the bed and I put a cockring on you.”

Dean didn’t like that scenario at all, so didn’t reply to that, instead, squeezed his inner walls around Hunter, hoping to incite him to lose control and give him what he wanted.

Hunter’s eyes snapped shut as he felt himself being practically strangled inside Dean and a long, low moan escaped his throat. He withdrew almost fully, before plunging deep again, then paused to glare at the other man. “If you want to come anytime in the next few hours, you’ll quit shit like that,” he growled, picking up the paddle again and smacking him viciously on each ass cheek, regretting it instantly since the blows made Dean’s walls reflexively clamp down around him.

Dean gasped at the strikes, pushing back into him. Hey…thought you might like that,” he protested breathlessly. “No need to get all bear on me.”

Hunter rolled his eyes and began to move, setting a slow, steady pace, hips rolling smoothly, sighing at the delicious friction, his hands starting to explore Dean more fully now, leaning over him, drawing his tongue along a shoulder blade, smirking when he felt the blond shudder.

Dean’s hands clenched into the pillow when Hunter began moving. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but fuck, it damn sure felt good! At the languorous lick to his back, his stomach contracted. The man was uncanny how he found his erogenous zones seemingly with unerring accuracy. If the man found his hard kink, he might consider that Hunter was some kind of witch. He buried his face in the soft pillow, groaning in both pleasure and frustration. He wanted a hard fuck, not this maddening torture!

Hunter’s eyes flashed with gratification as his hands slipped around to glide over Dean’s flat, ridged abdomen, feeling it flutter under his palm. He kept up the methodical thrusting as his fingers dipped down to comb through his pubic hair, circling around the base of his cock. He laved the dip in his spine before catching some skin in his teeth and biting down hard, eliciting a moan and shove back into him.

Dean cursed the man as his need increased. When Hunter began stroking his dick in a loose fist--giving him just enough friction to make it feel good, but not enough to get him off--he couldn’t take it any longer. “Fuck, dude!” he hissed, reaching down to try and tighten Hunter’s hold on him. “If you don’t get me off soon, I’m seriously going to take things into my own hands…literally.”

Hunter growled and bit Dean again, this time in the crook of his neck. “I have to keep telling you not to threaten me. Don’t make me repeat myself again,” he warned, catching Dean’s wrists and pinning them down to the mattress as he drove into him sharply.

Dean tried to wrench his hands from Hunter’s grip, but he didn’t have the right leverage, then all thought was swept out of his head when the other man thrust directly into his sweet spot and he arched back into him with a loud cry of delight. “Ahh, yeah…right there! Oh, baby…just like that!”

Hunter found he liked the way Dean responded like that and pulled out to slam into him again, wanting more. “This what you want, you little bitch?” he asked, his voice soft and sibilant in his ear.

“Fuck yeah!” Dean replied, writhing beneath Hunter. “Just fuckin’ wreck me, Daddy!”

Hunter sucked in a sharp breath at the name, his eyes glittering, it seeming to flip all his switches. He’d planned on drawing this out for a while longer, but Dean calling him that just threw all his plans out the window and he just wanted to pound the man until he called him that again. He abruptly yanked out of Dean, smirking when he protested. He smacked his hip. “On your back. I wanna watch you come.”

Dean didn’t argue with that. He was so ready to offload that he was practically trembling with the strain. He settled on his back, spreading his legs without prompting, curving his fingers in a beckoning gesture. “C’mon, big Daddy and lay it on me.”

Hunter took a moment to admire the display before him, a hand sliding up the inside of Dean’s thigh, pinching one of his balls hard, making him arch and draw his knees up more. He bent over him, bracing a hand beside his shoulder, guiding himself to him, pushing into him slowly, wanting to tease him one more time before he got down to business.

Dean raised his hips, urging him deeper, reaching up to grasp his muscular shoulders. “Fuck, please…” he begged, not feeling the least bit ashamed to be doing so. Whatever he had to do to get what he wanted was perfectly fine with him. “Fuck me…”

Hunter sank deeper into Dean, meeting those blue eyes, now dark with hunger. “Call me that again,” he demanded, halting all movement when he was fully sheathed.

“Huh?” Dean said, distracted by the pulsing fullness of the blond inside him. He then realized what the man was wanting and smirked up at him, caressing his palms down his flexing back to rest on his hips. “Oh, you like that, huh? Got a Daddy fetish?”

Hunter gave Dean an unfriendly look, then dropped to an elbow, his stomach trapping the other man’s cock between them. He began undulating against him, stroking him between their bellies. “May I remind you that I can still get myself off and chain you up to suffer?”

Dean hadn’t forgotten, but he couldn’t resist teasing the big man a little more. “Oh, c’mon, Hunter…nothing wrong with a Daddy fetish. Admit it…it makes your tummy flutter when you hear me call you that, doesn’t it? Makes you tingle?”

Hunter wanted to punch the man badly right then and he gritted his teeth, grabbing ahold of his temper with both hands. “You are such a pain in the ass, Ambrose,” he finally ground out.

Dean’s brow rose, stifling the moan as Hunter’s fingers skimmed over the tip of his dick. “And here I thought currently, you were the pain in my ass…though pain isn’t the word I’d use right now.”

Hunter again rolled his eyes and sighed. “Just do it, you obnoxious shit.”

Dean’s grin was wide and unrepentant as he glided his hands around to dig his fingers into Hunter’s ass. “C’mon, Daddy…fuck my ass raw.”

Hunter smiled faintly before bracing his knees apart and, withdrawing, rammed back in, making them both groan in pleasure. He didn’t waste time building up the tempo, but started hammering into the other man with ruthless force, his eyes fastened on his face, drinking every nuance of his response

Dean uttered a harsh grunt at the first thrust, then cried out as the man gave him exactly what he’d been wanting all night. He jerked his hips up to meet Hunter’s pistoning ones, nails biting into his ass, then raking over his back, drawing blood as all awareness narrowed down to what Hunter was doing. He scissored his legs around him, head rolling back and forth on the pillow as he felt himself being filled over and over again. “Yeah…oh, fuck, yeah…! Do me, Daddy. Gimme that dick!”

Hunter couldn’t believe how one little word could drive him mad with lust. He pounded into Dean so hard, he scooted him up the bed about a foot, headboard knocking loudly against the wall. He knew he’d hit his sweet spot when he bowed off the bed with a howl, head thrown back, demanding more. He let it pass, too focused on getting them both off to reprimand him again.

Dean was delirious with need as he dug the heels of his feet into Hunter’s pumping ass, urging him faster. “Christ, baby…don’t stop! Fuckin’ right there…close!”

All semblance of control slid away as Hunter’s hips pistoned into Dean, feeling himself on the brink of climax. “Come on, Ambrose…fucking shoot!” he panted, wedging a hand between them to help things along, pumping his fist on the blond’s dick, matching the tempo of his thrusts. “Fuckin’ come all over me!”

Dean dug his heels into Hunter’s flexing ass, his nails sunk deep into the muscles of his back as he strained for his release. “Fuck! Just a little to the--shit! Right fuckin’ there!” he cried, his feet hitting the mattress as he heaved up against Hunter. He howled as he came apart in a blistering explosion, shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure swamped him.

Hunter almost had the wind knocked out of him from the force of Dean’s bucking, but it was worth it. The boy was fucking magnificent when he came. He milked every drop from him, hips slamming faster as his own orgasm began to wash over him.

Dean moaned as the blond continued to pound into him, feeling him swell inside him, signaling his impending release. He looked up into Hunter’s face, seeing the expression of fierce concentration and smirked slightly before reaching up, twisting a hand in his hair and pulling him down, jerking his head to the side…and sinking his teeth deep into the hollow between neck and shoulder, nearly breaking the skin, a low purr emanating from his chest at his reaction.

Hunter was hovering right on the razor’s edge…then the bright, intense shock of pain from Dean’s bite hurled him headlong into an exquisite orgasm that had him roaring and ramming deep into Dean, eliciting a grunt of pain. He thrust several more times, drawing out the pleasure before collapsing on the other man, spent and panting. “God damn mother fucker!”

“I’m assuming you mean me?” Dean drawled in a raspy voice, his smile sated and lazy as he looked up at Hunter.

“Did you have to bite me so hard?” he grumbled, exploring the wound, relieved that he’d apparently hadn’t drawn blood…but fuck, it hurt!

“It got you off, didn’t it?” Dean returned, stretching his arms above his head and stretching…well, as much as he could with a 275 pound man on top of him. “And quite satisfactorily, if I do say so myself.”

Hunter idly debated between punching the obnoxious man in the face or strangling him, then finally settled on neither, not having the energy. Besides, he did have to admit that the fucker had definitely got him off rather nicely. “Just…shut up and go to sleep you pain in the ass--and shut up again.” He added when he saw that the blond was about to spout out another smartass comment.

Dean chuckled, relaxing beneath the bigger man, closing his eyes and yawning. “Truth hurts, doesn’t it, blondy?” he mumbled, already starting to slip into a doze.

Hunter only grunted in disdain, dropping his head to rest on Dean’s shoulder, sighing as he also closed his eyes and let himself drift to sleep.

The End?

Was considering doing a companion piece to this in which Dean turns the tables on Hunter, but wasn’t sure. What do you think? Should I?


End file.
